


Darkfall

by Ghostmonument



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Christmas, F/F, Fluff, Gen, No use of y/n, Other, Outrageous, Snowball Fight, Winter, all fluff no plot, although I just realized there are no soft face touches in this, gender neutral reader, gentle romantic leanings, i know who i am, the author yearning heavily for winter weather and also the Doctor's attention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-30
Updated: 2019-12-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:21:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22036978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ghostmonument/pseuds/Ghostmonument
Summary: For a belated Christmas trip, the Doctor takes you and the rest of the gang to one of her favorite winter planets. Although nothing goes horribly wrong (for once), you do all learn to be wary of hitting a certain blonde alien with a snowball.
Relationships: 13th Doctor/Reader, The Doctor (Doctor Who)/Reader, Thirteenth Doctor/You
Comments: 14
Kudos: 97





	Darkfall

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this last year before Christmas but didn't finish it until February I think, and now I'm posting it almost a year later because that's just who I am I guess. This was not a request and honestly has no real plot, but was rather just a way for me to write something that was cold and snow themed - I was living in California at the time and very desperate for proper winter weather. I hope you all enjoy!
> 
> As always feel free to drop by my tumblr (myghostmonument) and say hi, I'm shy and awkward but Iove chatting with people.

“You’re being a real Grinch, you know,” you panted, straining to reach over your head and hang up a section of the christmas lights. You failed. “Augh! Ryan, why’d you have to put the hooks so high - ”

“It’s not my fault you lot are so short!” Ryan came to your rescue, taking the lights and continuing to hang them.

“I am not being a _Grinch,_ ” the Doctor complained, hands on her hips. She was standing by the console, watching in bemusement as you and the rest of the team scurried around and decorated the console room. “I’m just saying, this is a _timeship_ , decorating for a single planet’s single day’s worth of a single religion’s wildly inaccurate holiday doesn’t make _sense_ \- ”

“Christmas isn’t about making sense, or following a calendar, Doc,” Graham said wisely, sipping from his mug of peppermint cocoa. He was wearing festive, jingly reindeer antlers, and the only reason Ryan was still allowing it was because of the expression the Doctor made every time _she_ caught sight of them.

“Yeah, it’s about- being with the people you love, appreciating the light they bring in your life even when the days are at their shortest and darkest,” Yaz added, all but hidden beneath an armful of tinsel. 

“So basically it doesn’t have to follow linear time, it’s about being with your mates, and it’s for appreciating the past year’s worth of adventures,” Ryan said, ticking the items off on his fingers as he spoke.

“Gosh, that sounds familiar, doesn’t it?” you mused, tapping your cheek in mock thought. “It’s so close I could almost put my finger on it - ”

“Alright! Alright!” the Doctor threw up her hands in exasperation while you and the others shared a grin. “Enough! I’m sorry for doubting Christmas-”

“For being a Grinch,” Yaz corrected.

“For being a Grinch,” the Doctor amended, glowering at Yaz and then the rest of you.

“That’s alright, we forgive you. In the spirit of Christmas.” Graham settled a santa hat on the Doctor’s head. The Doctor’s glower flickered. She finally gave up as her face wrinkled into a scrunchy smile, reaching up and adjusting the hat so that it sat more securely. She spun around, hands dancing across the console’s controls.

“Graham, finish your drink. Everyone fetch your coats.” She looked over her shoulder at you all as the TARDIS made its familiar wheezing groan and began to shudder. The Doctor’s eyes were bright, her face alight with enthusiasm. “You want Christmas? I’ll give you Christmas.” You and the others shared startled, delighted looks, then hurried off to get dressed properly. From behind you, you could just hear the Doctor muttering “teach them to call _me_ a Grinch - ”

It was sure to have been a grand plan, some exotic and distinctly Christmas-y destination (or at least whatever constituted as Christmas-y, to the Doctor, which was questionable at best), but the TARDIS had apparently not been in a negotiatory mood that day. Which was fine; you were more than used to the TARDIS’ loose navigational structure, and indeed part of the thrill of traveling in it was that you could never be sure where or when you’d end up.

But of all the places that the TARDIS felt you needed to be, did she have to pick a tropical planet? Because she did, and it was hot. _Really_ hot. And not just a dry heat, but full on 95% humidity, ground squelching when you step, the air itself is more mist than water, _hot_.  
  
Stepping out into that delightful oven in your full winter gear, only to be immediately whisked away into captivity by the suspicious, warring locals (and thus unable to shed your suffocating winter clothes for some fair few hours) did not end up making your top ten list for ‘most enjoyed travel detours as conducted by the TARDIS’ list. 

It took several days to sort out _that_ particular mess, and by the time you and the gang had made it back onto the TARDIS, something else had already come up, as it so often did.

By the time several linear weeks had passed (along with several wibbly-wobbly centuries) you and the others had quite forgotten about the Doctor’s Christmas-destination.

She, however, had not.

You had all been hanging about in the main console area while the Doctor conducted minor repairs, when she suddenly straightened up and whipped off her welding helmet.

“Right, that should do it,” she declared, pulling off her smock. “You lot, get your coats.” When none of you moved, she lifted her brows. “What?”

“Well, it’s just the last time you said that, we almost boiled alive in our clothes,” Graham said apologetically. “And I’m not keen to repeat it, to be honest - ”

The Doctor’s brows snapped together in a scowl, and she pulled a lever on the console. The TARDIS began to wheeze, the massive crystal rising and falling. “I have _apologized_ for that already,” the Doctor said in an aggrieved sort of way, and lifted a finger to point at the four of you. “This isn’t last time. Coats. Now.”

Well, there was no arguing with her. Accepting the fact that it was better to risk overheating in a parka instead of arguing with an alien and her sentient timeship, you and the others scurried off to do as the Doctor said.

The Doctor was waiting impatiently by the TARDIS doors when you and the others reappeared, dressed in your warmest clothes and wearing looks of resigned trepidation. Graham was last to arrive, tucking what looked suspiciously like a sandwich into a pocket as he went. The Doctor raised her brows at him, but didn’t comment. Everyone was used to Graham’s resource guarding by now.

The Doctor hadn’t made any adjustments to her own wardrobe save for the rainbow scarf wound about her neck, but you weren’t surprised. She never seemed to feel the elements as keenly as her human companions, which you all thought was distinctly unfair.

“If you’re quite ready,” the Doctor said, eyes lingering for a moment on Graham, who looked back blandly, “then behold: Christmas!”

She turned and with a flourish, flung the doors of the TARDIS wide open. She stood aside, letting you and the others step forwards and into the unknown. You glanced up at the Doctor as you stepped past, and she met your eyes briefly. She was grinning, and you couldn’t help but grin back. You felt her fall into place behind you, and your skin prickled with the awareness of her, as if the small space between her body and yours was electrically charged. 

Looking forwards again, you stepped out of the TARDIS... and into a Christmas card. Or maybe a winter wonderland. _Some_ sort of cliche, anyway. The landscape was definitely mantled in white, pristine snow, and the trees and other flora surrounding you were picturesque in their winter austerity; several branches dripped delicate icicles, and the distant mountains were capped white. You halted, breath puffing into the air in front of you.

“Still want to call me a Grinch?”

The words startled you; you had been staring in delight at the landscape and hadn’t noticed the Doctor approach and lean over to murmur near one of your ears. She laughed as you jumped, and that low sound sent another thrill down your spine, this one utterly unrelated to surprise. The Doctor’s coat brushed lightly against your legs as she moved past you, but you knew she’d seen your half-hearted scowl. It had only made her smile deepen.

“Where are we?” Graham asked.

“ _When_ are we?” Yaz added quickly.

“Welcome to the planet N’robac,” the Doctor said, spreading her arms wide to encompass the landscape. “We’re well off from your timelines, I’d say maybe 2500 years or so? In about, oh, twenty, maybe twenty-five rotations this planet becomes _quite_ the tourist destination.”

“What for?” Ryan asked.

“It’s pristine winter landscape, of course,” the Doctor said, as if that were obvious. Ryan rolled his eyes.

“Well I mean, a lot of planets have got to have nice winters, don’t they?” Graham said reasonably. “What’s so special about this one?”

“You’ll see,” was the Doctor’s cryptic reply. “We’re a few hours early.” She put her hands in her pockets, gaze sweeping the landscape. “In fewer than a hundred rotations after its discovered, it’s ruined of course. Utterly destroyed by the traffic; so many beings coming to marvel at it, and none ever think of taking the time to care for it or their impact.” Her voice was sad, wistful as she looked around. 

“Perks of having a mate with a time machine all over again, then,” Yaz said, and the Doctor smiled at her, most of her melancholy seeping away. Yaz always knew what to say.

You moved towards a tree, delighting in the way the snow crunched under your boots. It was perfect snow; deep and soft, but not powdery; it had enough moisture in it that you left perfect bootprints, and you guessed that it would hold its shape very well if scooped into, something solid, like a snowball. You weren’t wearing gloves though, and decided against it.

Soft scrabbling made you look up; something was moving around in the branches of the tree. Cautiously you stepped closer; traveling with the Doctor had imparted in you both great curiosity _and_ great wariness for the unknown. You tilted your face up, squinting through the snow-laden branches as the scrabbling came again. There was a pause, then a small, round creature landed on a branch above you, its bright eyes fixing on you with interest. It was… a bird? It was camouflaged almost perfectly against the branches, but you could track its eyes, and the way it fluffed and settled its… feathers? Fur? It was hard to tell. Cautiously you moved closer, tried to get a better look.

“Whatcha looking at - augh!”

Ryan’s sudden words startled both you and the bird-creature, which twittered madly and vanished as thoroughly as if it had teleported. Well, for all you knew, maybe it _had_. You couldn’t be sure, though, because the creature’s rapid disappearance had resulted in a veritable deluge of snow dislodged from branch the creature had been sitting on. Ryan managed to get mostly out the way in time; you had not. 

Alien planet or not, the snow seemed as cold and eager to run down your spine as icy melt as earth snow, and you choked and gasped, wiping more of it out of your eyes. You were grimly pleased to see that in his haste to avoid your fate, Ryan had tripped and fallen backwards into a snowdrift. Not quite the same as a pile of snow on the head- but you could quickly fix _that_. 

Ryan obviously read the intention in your eyes as you advanced on him; he scrambled backwards on his hands, apologizing in an increasingly high-pitched voice even as you bent down and scooped up a handful of snow. You’d been right, earlier: it _was_ perfect packing snow.

You hefted the ball even as Ryan lurched to his feet, then cooly aimed and fired. Ryan screeched as only he could, taking the hit on his shoulder. He looked down in shock, then turned his face to you again in burgeoning outrage ... which was when you adjusted your calibration, and hit him directly in the face.  
  
Ah yes, that was much better- you could see the snow piling around his ears and collar. Revenge had been swift and devastating, and now you could both move on. Although it was odd that Ryan was bending down and digging through the snow. Had he dropped his phone? You’d feel bad if he had, he’d gone through so many since meeting up with the Doctor. Maybe you should help him look - oh. He was making a snowball. _Oh._

“Now wait a minute,” you began sternly, though you were stepping back carefully towards the shelter of the tree. “Mine was retaliation, a proportionate response. You can’t just - ” Ryan straightened and launched his projectile, which you only just managed to avoid. You didn’t manage to avoid his second. You returned fire, and traded several increasingly wild volleys while the voices of the others egged you both on until -

THWACK

In an uncharacteristic display of coordination and timing, Ryan managed to duck your snowball. Unobstructed, the slushy missile continued blithely on its trajectory and exploded across… _the Doctor’s back._ You and Ryan both froze. When the Doctor straightened slowly, pivoting on her heel to face you, both you and Ryan immediately pointed at each other in utter silence. The Doctor’s brows lifted, her face otherwise very still, _expectant_. There was a brief silence, in which Yaz was the only one smiling. _Broadly_.  
  
Something in the Doctor’s expression shifted, and without conscious choice you and Ryan both eased backwards a step.  
  
“Now, tell me Yaz,” the Doctor began, and at her musing, professorial tone you and Ryan took several more steps backwards, away from each other, “is it _polite_ , when visiting an alien planet, to skive off and mess around, without listening to your mate who brought you there in the first place?”  
  
“Don’t think it is,” Yaz said, watching interestedly as the Doctor bent down, digging her fingers into the snow.  
  
“Is it _clever_ , do you think, to go chasing after alien wildlife and get covered in alien snow, without first checking if it’s safe?”  
  
“Doubt it,” Yaz drawled, as the Doctor straightened, her hands busily mashing a handful of snow together.  
  
“And most importantly, is it in any way _wise_ , to challenge the annual Rings of Onantal snowball fight three-time _defending champion?”_

_  
_“Seems unlikely,” Yaz replied, her eyes shining in what you thought to be a very malevolent way indeed as she watched the Doctor, who had created not one, but _three_ perfect looking snowballs in very short time. The time lord swept her gaze from you to Ryan, and there was a moment of absolute, crystallized silence.  
  
Yaz’s smile deepened. Perhaps, out of the corner of her eye, the Doctor noticed this, or perhaps it had been her plan all along. You would never know.  
  
THWACK  
  
In one smooth motion, the Doctor had whirled, aimed, fired - _and hit Yaz._ You and Ryan both gasped. _  
__  
_And then all hell broke loose.  
  
The thing you remembered most, later, (besides the sight of snowballs careening wildly all directions with variable speed and accuracy) was the ever present sound of Ryan’s screeching- you could always tell when he’d been hit because the screech would temporarily triple in pitch and volume.  
  
Other notable events that stood out from the general, all-encompassing pandemonium included: Graham (who had slipped back into the TARDIS not long after snow started flying) reappearing and dumping an _entire bucket_ of loose snow on Yaz’s head as she pinned Ryan down (it turned out that she could screech almost as piercingly as Ryan), the Doctor upholding her reputation as a snowball fight champion and nailing almost every target she aimed at, only to trip on her own coat as she knelt down to gather more snow and end up bum over heels and unable to rise as everyone converged on her (Graham was an absolute menace with that bucket), and the suspicious way the TARDIS shields seemed to activate only when the duly deflected snowball was likely to hit someone in the back of the head.  
  
Eventually a truce was called and you all trooped back into the TARDIS, soaked to the skin and breathless with the cold. The Doctor flung off her coat (her clothes underneath seemed dry, which was absolutely outrageous) and vanished in the direction of the kitchen, promising to whip up a batch of what she called “hot cocoa juice” for everyone. You, Ryan and Yaz shared a horrified look, then as one blurted “not it!” Yaz finished just a beat behind you and Ryan. Wrinkling her nose, she stuck out her tongue and then trailed after the Doctor in an effort to mitigate the “hot cocoa juice” situation.  
  
She was mostly successful; when you all gathered a short time later in the library to warm up with drinks and biscuits, only the Doctor’s mug contained questionable content. She drank it cheerfully and seemed oblivious as to why nobody else wanted to try it when she offered to share.  
  
The afternoon passed in much that way, with plenty of cocoa, biscuits, and pleasant conversation. At some point Graham had fallen asleep, and Ryan and the Doctor had started covering him in crumpled bits of paper. They had quite a pile going after a while, and Yaz lost a bet and five pounds to Ryan after he and the Doctor successfully began a stack on Graham’s face without waking him.  
  
You ended up dozing for a while, and when you woke you found yourself in need of the bathroom, and slipped away. Heading back through the main console towards the library, you hesitated and looked towards the doors. The light had changed; it seemed to be night proper now, or close to it. You thought about the landscape outside, and wondered how it would look at night, wondered if there would be a moon to shine on the snow, and before you had thought things through you were at the TARDIS doors. You hesitated, your hand on the door. You could just faintly make out the voices of the others, drifting from the library.  
  
“I lived in this town called Christmas, once,” the Doctor was saying. “No, really - lovely place, I’ve definitely spent worse centuries marooned in worse places. I might still be there, if it hadn’t been for this friend of mine - ”  
  
You looked up, and could see a softly outlined pile of snow against the TARDIS windows. That decided you. Gently, you pulled open the door and stepped outside, shutting it softly behind you.  
  
It was snowing. You took in a slow, deep breath, reveling in the sharp air as it filled your lungs with that scent unique to snowfall on a winter’s night. The last of the day’s light seemed to be almost gone, just a slight glow edging around the distant horizon. You took a step away from the TARDIS, noting the signs of the earlier snowball battle being softened and erased by the new snowfall. You exhaled and closed your eyes, tipping your face back and quietly delighting in the soft _pat pat pat_ of the snowflakes as they landed on your face. It was barely a sound at all, almost its own flavor of silence instead, something felt rather than heard.  
  


You realized that you were quite cold indeed, as you had neglected to put on proper outerwear, but as you continued to stand in the pristine, almost heartbreakingly beautiful snowfall, you decided you could make it a bit longer before heading back inside. You didn’t really _need_ to feel your fingers or toes, right?  
  
“Didn’t your parents teach you not to go wandering off on alien planets by yourself?”  
  
You just about jumped out of your skin, eyes slamming open as you jerked around to see the Doctor stepping up next to you.  
  
“Surprisingly, they did not,” you replied tartly, your breath puffing into the air in front of you as you exhaled. Gods, you hadn’t even heard her come outside! “This friend of mine did, though,” you added, grudgingly.  
  
“Sounds like a wise friend,” the Doctor replied sternly. “You ought to listen to her.” You wrinkled your nose at the time lord, though you couldn’t help smiling.  
  
“I suppose so,” you conceded. “I wouldn’t want to get on the wrong end of one of her snowballs.” The Doctor grinned as she turned to look out across the landscape.  
  
“Almost true dark,” she said, sounding satisfied. At your quizzical look, she just shook her head mysteriously. “You’ll see,” she promised. “Any minute now, I should think.” You both stood in silence for a few heartbeats, shoulders gently brushing as your breaths making twin plumes of vapor that shimmered briefly in the sharp air, dissipating gracefully into the oblivion of night.  
  


It was really quite beautiful; it was also really quite _bloody_ cold. You shifted your feet in an effort to warm them, and stuffed your hands in your armpits. But you couldn’t help again tilting back your face and letting the snow fall against your skin. The silence stretched out into the endless night, but you felt something in it… shift, as if a piece of it had focused on you.  
  
You opened your eyes and turned to see the Doctor watching you with an unreadable expression on her face. In the soft, muted colours of the night, her eyes seemed to shine like the night sky itself, vast and ancient and unknowable in its beauty.  
  
In that moment it was harder to forget that she was an alien, with the night shading her features and the stars themselves looking out of her eyes.  
  
“You’re cold,” the Doctor observed, though her eyes were not on your balled fists or hunched shoulders, but the snowflakes that had collected on your eyelashes, dusted the bridge of your nose, kissed the curves of your lips. Her expression was still difficult to read, but something about it made your cheeks flush, and you looked away quickly.  
  
“I guess going outside on an alien planet without a coat is something else my parents neglected to teach me,” you replied, and the Doctor huffed out an exasperated, amused breath, some of that unknowable mystery receding from her expression. You were half-relieved, and half-disappointed.  
  
“Humans,” she muttered, and managed to infuse the simple word with several lifetime’s worth of fond irritation. You grinned.  
  
Then she moved to stand behind you and, before you could even begin to register what was happening, had opened her coat and, threading her arms under yours and around your waist, pulled the edges of it around you. She pulled you until your back was pressed against her own body, her arms keeping you in place.  
  
You began to warm up almost immediately, but weren’t aware of the fact for quite some time. Your breathing had hitched, snagging almost painfully in your throat, and you couldn’t focus on much of anything but the shape of the Doctor’s body against your own and the deafening thunder of your blood in your ears.  
  
“You’re shivering,” the Doctor murmured, and her lips were suddenly so close to your ear that you could almost _feel_ the words against your skin. You could also hear the unspoken subtext, something along the lines of _‘foolish fragile life form that you are,’_ and it grounded you, a bit. Enough to breathe normally again, enough to let your spinning mind grind back into some semblance of orderly function.  
  
“This is worth it,” you said. You had meant the beautiful alien _landscape_ , but as the words left your lips they acquired a subtext of their own, one that included the beautiful alien _woman_ pressed against you. You bit your lip, and knew that the Doctor had felt the undercurrent of implication as well as her arms tightened slightly.  
  
“Not yet, but it’s about to be,” was all she replied. “Ah, look at that! I’m good, tell me I’m good.”  
  
“Look at what - oh…”  
  
Your voice trailed away, and you just stared in awestruck silence at the trees, at the _trees._ _  
__  
_They were glowing, each and every one. Just a soft glow, a subtle pale gold that limned every branch, every leaf in gilded light. Most of the light was muted, softened and spread out by the snow that it shone through, but in other places it _blazed_ , cutting through ice and fragmenting into geometric splendor.  
  
“Bioluminescent trees,” the Doctor whispered, and the pure, unadulterated joy and wonder in her voice made your heart twist. The fact that she had _known_ what the trees were going to look like, had probably even seen them before, but still managed such gentle enthusiasm when she saw them, _shared_ them...You leaned your head back, feeling the brush of her hair against your face. She made a soft sound, not quite a hum. “So am I still a Grinch, or - ”  
  
“No,” you interrupted softly. “This is - perfect.” The Doctor hummed again, a pleased sort of sound that you could feel through her body into yours, then rested her chin on your shoulder. “It’s better than Christmas,” you murmured. “Thank you.”  
  
The Doctor didn’t reply. She just wrapped her arms tighter around you, nestling her head more snuggly on your shoulder and filling half of your vision with her curling, snow-dusted hair.  
  
You two stood like that for quite some time, and didn’t remember that the rest of the gang had yet to see the bioluminescent trees (the whole point of the trip) until Ryan stuck his head out of the TARDIS and found you. It was several days before you and the Doctor heard the end of _that_ one.  
  
But it had been, as you said earlier, very much worth it. 


End file.
